Siren
by Cirro
Summary: Don't trust the comfort of dreams.


The first time he had the dream he woke up shivering and covered in sweat. He doesn't remember it that well except it was the most calming thing he had felt since he was rescued from the rock. He doesn't know why it freaked him out so bad, but despite the relief it gave him in the dream there was something terribly off about it when he was awake.

The second time he had the dream he overslept and almost missed breakfast. He had to skip his shower in the morning in favour of finishing breakfast on time for the crew. He felt sluggish and couldn't cook as fast as he usually would, and it frustrated him to no end. He kept on catching himself staring blankly at the wall, jarred out of his reverie by the blaring sound of a pan slipping out of his hands. In the end, he opted to make a simple breakfast that didn't require him to think. He doesn't realize that he's done until Luffy pokes him on the cheek gently to ask if he could eat. The fact that Luffy actually asked instead of consuming everything in his path was enough to make sweat break out on the back of his neck because _there was something wrong._

There was something terribly, terribly wrong with him, and Sanji doesn't know what. All he knows is that it has something to do with that dream; that dream that he can't remember for the life of him. He would have convinced himself that he was being paranoid except Luffy was getting increasingly worried, hovering over him silently every chance he got, and he had caught Zoro staring at him throughout the entire day instead of sleeping in some corner.

They kept on watching him, and it was making his hair stand on end because it felt like something else as well. Every seemingly innocuous shadow made him apprehensive, distant noises making him jump. It was the quieter things that made his skin prickle, and everything started feeling out of place even though his surroundings remained the same.

He's afraid of falling asleep. Something kept on trying to drag him down in his dreams, and he's scared that he'll never wake up.

It was the third day that he decided to stop sleeping. He smoked three entire packs of cigarettes through the night, and almost cried in relief when the sun peeked over the waves.

He tried to confine himself to the galley, only stepping out when absolutely necessary. He doesn't want the crew seeing the bags under his eyes or the way he's been slouching enough that his back is starting to hurt. He wants to sleep so badly, but whenever he finds himself nodding off he jerks upright and nearly tears his hair out in frustration. He's almost tempted to put out cigarettes on his skin to keep himself awake. He's tugged at the ends of his hair enough that he's not even surprised that they fall out more easily now, strands of gold tangled on his fingers.

"I'm not cut out for this." He had mumbled. But he doesn't know what else to do.

It's the seventh day when he's cornered by the crew.

He knows they're worried for him despite his efforts to act normal. He doesn't flit around the girls as much, he avoids the younger crewmates' questions, makes more and more snacks so they'll leave him alone even though they've become more sloppy and come out burnt more often as the days went by.

Zeff would kick his ass if he saw.

But he can't help it. He has to stay awake even if he's been shivering nonstop, even if his sight has been getting more and more blurry. Something's going to happen if he dreams. He _knows_ it, and it terrifies him. But when the crew comes to him with concerned faces, the girls gently taking his hands, he suddenly realizes that he needs them to help him. He doesn't know how they can, but he _needs _them. And so he tells them,

"I can't sleep. Or else I'll dream."

It makes perfect sense in his head, but it's only when he's voiced it out loud when he realizes that it sounds crazy. For some reason he doesn't think to offer further explanation, and only blinks stupidly when Chopper carefully asks him to elaborate. He opens his mouth, not sure what he's actually planning to say, but what falls from his lips shocks even him.

"It's going to take me."

And suddenly he can't stop talking. He's babbling some explanation that he can't hear or understand, but he watches in bewilderment as each member of the crew grows increasingly horrified. He only stops the torrent of words when he hears the sound of wood splintering under Zoro's fist.

It's a testament to how fucked up the situation is when Franky doesn't even protest. In the silence that follows, interrupted only by the sound of Sanji's heartbeat drumming in his ears, Zoro withdraws his bloody fists and gives a sharp glance to the captain who's looking at Sanji with a steely gaze.

"Chopper."

The captain's simple request is immediately understood, and their doctor gently leads Sanji away to the infirmary. Sanji follows numbly, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Zoro follows them in, and Sanji's irritation is cut short when he sees Zoro's hand. The knuckles are bloody and dripping onto the floor, but most of his focus is on the way it's clenched so tightly that the veins are standing out on his arm. Sanji would be worried except Zoro's a barbarian who tried to cut off his feet once, so he only turns back to their doctor as the reindeer hurriedly bandages Zoro's fist after shoving a vial of questionable blue liquid into Sanji's hands.

"It will help you sleep but you won't dream. I promise."

Sanji has the utmost trust in Chopper, but there's still something strange about that dream and he's worried that the medicine won't work. But he says nothing, opting for blind faith that has gotten their crew so far.

Still, he swallows nervously, eyes flitting back and forth between Chopper and Zoro. He turns the glass vial over in his palm, gripping it tightly and then unfolding his fingers in a gesture of nervousness. He clears his throat.

"You don't have to stay."

Chopper looks at him anxiously before nodding slowly, telling him that he'll be back in half an hour to check on him.

"Zoro?"

"I'll make sure he drinks it. Then I'll go."

Sanji bristles at that, but for the sake of their doctor he only shoots Zoro a scathing glare. There's only silence when the click of the door sounds behind them, and Sanji decides to ignore Zoro for the rest of their time in the sick bay.

"Cook."

"Shut the fuck up."

Zoro gives him a dirty look before sighing.

"Sanji."

Sanji winces at that. He knows he's being needlessly aggressive. He knows that Zoro's only trying to help. He doesn't know why he's so afraid. He rubs his face roughly, fingers tugging at his bangs and running through the back of his head as he attempts to stare a hole through the floor. It's only when he sees scuffed black boots come into his line of sight, feels a rough calloused hand grip his wrists that he looks up. Zoro doesn't say anything, only rubs his thumb across Sanji's pulse.

And Sanji suddenly feels inexplicably overwhelmed. He leans forward and drops his forehead onto Zoro's shoulder, hiding his face from view. Like this, it's easier to admit that he's scared. He lets his shields fall, all his bravado and rough exterior melting away until he's a boy again, starved on a rock in the middle of the sea.

"You're an idiot you know that, shitcook?"

Sanji lets out a watery laugh. The vial is still trapped in between his hands. He never knew he'd be afraid of such a small thing.

Zoro gently pries his fingers open and uncorks the vial. He holds it out to him with a raised eyebrow. It's a challenge of sorts, and Sanji knows he can't back down. And so he takes it gingerly, lifting it to his lips and staring at Zoro as if to say "I'm not going to lose to you yet". But he can't help but search out for one of Zoro's hands to anchor himself, pulse rising as he gulps down the contents of the vial. It's bitter.

His vision is already starting to fade, but he feels more relaxed than he has for days. The warmth of Zoro's hand is a comfort he gladly accepts.

There's a high-pitched ringing in his ears, but the next words are clear in his mind.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He falls into darkness.

* * *

Originally posted on August 3, 2014. Partially inspired by ROM-13's "Boukyaku Countdown".


End file.
